Michael Gracie 

Cry a river for the poor chap that must hang around for an entire week with a bunch of professional fly fishing guides and outdoor journalists. Such a person must first have their head examined, and then scoot over to the practice range to ensure they’ll have at least moderate tendinitis in their right elbow [...]

Three sets of dorsal fins head up the beach of Mary’s Bay, Little Cayman Island. You’ve blown three shots this morning already and aren’t about to miss another. Standing in waist deep water sixty feet from the sand, you cast perpendicular towards shore, betting the permit will cross your fly’s path. You’ll give that Merkin [...]

Assuming you have an iPod (you technophile), are willing to risk your so-called thrasher brownlining reputation by carrying it out on the water (you tool), and haven’t been mugged for it yet (you lucky !@#%), the following tunes will very likely put you in the frame of mind to dodge sewage hook some thugs from [...]

I’ll first apologize to Mr. Buffett (and all the islanders). I love ya’, and acoustic guitar and steel drums certainly fit the bonefishing motif. But I was hell bent on selections that would really get the blood pumping, since that’s precisely the reason I flyfish in the first place. Not necessarily in order of appearance… [...]

Great tunes, compliments of the merchant bankers at Headwaters. I particularly like the steel drums for Ben Bernanke.